Last Man on Earth
by DarkPhoenixAscending
Summary: Harry/Draco slash. When Harry and Draco find themselves trapped in a dungeon, it looks like an ancient legend about the end of the world has come true. So what will they do now that the world's about to end? Oneshot. Complete.


**Title:** Last Man on Earth

**Author: **Dark Phoenix

**Summary:** When Harry and Draco find themselves trapped in a dungeon, it looks like an ancient legend about the end of the world has come true. So what will they do now that the world's about to end?

**Pairings:** Harry/Draco

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter and am making no money from this.

**Note:** This comes from Tumblr Drarry Prompt of the Day #15: "Harry and Draco think the world's about to end and are trapped alone together"

* * *

**~ Last Man on Earth ~**

"How in the world did I ever get stuck here with _you?"_

Harry rolled his eyes. It had to be about the hundredth time Malfoy had said that exact same thing in the fifteen minutes or so they'd been trapped. "Obviously, the fates are out to get you," he said unsympathetically.

Malfoy spun around and glared at him. "Well, they are! Everything that ever happened at Hogwarts, being stuck with _you_ for a partner, then _you_ stupidly triggering some kind of ancient spell and getting us trapped down here with your stupid, clumsy—"

"Well, it's no picnic for me, either," Harry shot back. He wished Malfoy would stop overemphasizing the word _you _— after all, they'd both made their share of mistakes over the years. "Being stuck here and having to hear you complain for the past fifteen minutes instead of doing something even remotely useful—"

"And what have _you_ done that's so useful? You're the one who got us trapped here in the first place!"

Harry bit back his retort with some difficulty. It _had_ been his fault, after all. But how was he supposed to know that running his fingers over some ancient runes carved into a wall would cause them to come to life and open up the floor beneath them? He was just relieved that neither of them had been injured, although he couldn't help wishing that Malfoy had injured his _tongue._

"This isn't getting us anywhere," he said at last. "If there was something up there that triggered the floor to open up, maybe there's something down here as well." He cast a quick _Lumos_ and walked over to the wall, even though they'd already examined the place after becoming trapped.

Malfoy scoffed. "We've already been over that," he said. "There's nothing down here that reopens the floor. You can't even read runes, anyway." He let out a long sigh, balling up his fists. "How in the world did I ever get stuck here with _you?"_

"Well, maybe we missed something," Harry said, trying to be reasonable. "We haven't been down here that long. There's got to be something we overlooked."

"Ridiculous optimist," Malfoy said. "How is it you weren't sorted into Hufflepuff?"

"Well, at least I don't give up too easily!" Harry exploded. "You've done nothing but complain this whole time. You barely even looked at the runes on the wall. Maybe they'll tell us something."

Malfoy glared at him for another moment, then pulled himself to his feet with an air of long-suffering. He pointed at the runes in front of them and said, as if speaking to a very slow child, "All it says is, 'The gates have been opened. Zephenia's revenge is at hand. The end is upon us. Only love will set you free.' Does that sound promising to you?"

Harry had to admit it didn't. Still, they could at least _try_ to find a way out. It was better than just sitting there and accepting their fate.

"Maybe it's some kind of riddle," he said. "If we figure out what that even means, maybe we'll know how to escape. Now, who's this Zephenia person?"

Malfoy let out a sharp bark of laughter. "You really didn't pay attention in History of Magic, did you? Zephenia was a powerful witch bent on world destruction. She was eventually brought down in the fourteenth century, but not before she unleashed the Black Plague on the world. Legend has it that just before her execution, she vowed to return one day and finish the job. So if we — if _you_ — really have stumbled on some old trap of hers, then we have worse things to worry about than simply being trapped in a dungeon."

As if to underscore his words, a low rumbling sounded throughout the room. Harry wasn't sure where it was coming from, but he felt a tremor beneath his feet. He looked up at Malfoy, both of them wide-eyed.

"And what are the chances it's just some harmless old myth?"

Malfoy didn't answer.

* * *

Draco sank back down to the floor. It was just his luck to get stuck down here with Potter. Somehow, whenever bad things happened to him, Potter always seemed to be involved in some way. Being accepted into the Auror program had been a happy, proud moment — until he'd seen Potter at the training facility, parading around like he owned the place. Then, graduating at the top of his class should've been the greatest day of his life — until he'd been assigned Potter as a partner. He'd always known that Potter would be the death of him, but he still never would've guessed that his death would come so soon, and for such a stupid reason.

"Well, _you_ can sit here and sulk all you want, but I have no intention of just giving up without a fight," Potter declared, breaking the silence with a suddenness that made Draco jump. He was on his feet again, looking around the room with that ridiculous heroic determination that Draco had always found so irksome. Couldn't he, for once, just act like a regular human being?

Draco sniffed. "What do you plan to do? Fight with a stone wall?"

Potter drew his wand. "Well, it's better than nothing." He waved his wand with a flourish and yelled, _"Reducto!"_

The ceiling seemed to absorb the blast, glowing brightly for a few seconds before returning to dark, cool stone once again. There was another rumbling sound, and the tremors that went through the room were more distinct this time.

"Great job," Draco drawled. "We'll be out of here in no time."

Potter glared down at him. "Okay, so that didn't work. I don't see _you_ coming up with any better ideas. Why are you even here if you're not going to do anything?"

Draco stood up so that they were face to face. "Well, I _was_ here to investigate that smuggling ring in the area, and then some idiot stumbled on a trap that got us both stuck in this room."

"No, I mean, why are you even an Auror? Wasn't there anything else you could've done with your life? Or do you just get off on being in constant competition with me?"

"Oh, yeah, it's just the land of opportunity out there for an ex Death Eater," Draco sneered. "I was so overwhelmed with options that I just chose this at random. Or, if you prefer, because of you. Because _everything_ revolves around you, doesn't it?"

To his surprise, Potter balled up his fists and let out a strangled cry of frustration. "It does not! Not because I _want_ it to, anyway! I wish people would just—"

"Just what?" Draco couldn't help being intrigued. He'd never seen Potter like this and wanted him to continue.

"Forget it." Potter turned to glare at the wall.

"No, tell me," said Draco. He was much too curious now to let it drop. "We're partners, after all. We should be able to communicate with each other, all our thoughts and fears and all that touchy-feely nonsense."

Potter made a derisive sound, and Draco couldn't be sure, because his back was turned, but he thought Potter rolled his eyes.

"And, besides, if we are doomed, and there's no way out of here, it's not like we have anything better to do."

"You really know how to be comforting," said Potter. "I think you missed your calling. You should've been a Mind Healer, helping people deal with their _feelings_ all day long."

"Oh, do you need to be comforted?" Draco said with delight. "Let me comfort you, Chosen One." He stepped forward and threw his arms around Potter.

Potter squirmed out of his grasp. "There's something seriously wrong with you, you know."

"Oh, believe me, I know," Draco said. "What do you expect, growing up the way I did? But I can hardly expect _you_ to understand. You're the _Chosen_ One. Everybody worships the ground you walk on. It must be such a trial for you, being stuck with someone like _me_ for a partner."

"Yeah, you know everything about me, don't you?" Potter said with a sneer. "You and everyone else. You're so _presumptuous._ I guess you forgot about all the times everyone was calling me a liar and the Heir of Slytherin and all kinds of nasty things."

Draco winced. He _had_ forgotten about that. But, surely that had only been a year or two of Potter's perfect life. Everything since then certainly seemed to go his way all the time.

"But that was years ago," he said. "You're the biggest hero in the world now."

"Yeah, now I'm the big hero," Potter said. "And do you know what that means? That means I can't do anything without the entire world knowing about it. I didn't _want_ any of this, Malfoy. I just want to live my life like everyone else. I don't want to be special. I'm _not_ special. I'm just a—" He cut himself off quickly, but Draco thought he heard the faint whisper of the word _freak._

Draco was trying not to stare at him in wide-eyed shock, but didn't think he was having much success. He'd heard Potter complain numerous times over the years about how much he hated the fame, but Draco had mostly just thought he was trying to rub it in, not that he actually meant it. It made sense, now that he thought about it. Potter did seem to be featured on the _Daily Prophet_ fairly often, even if he hadn't actually done anything newsworthy. Draco had always been annoyed by it before, but if it turned out that Potter didn't even _like_ all the attention . . .

Draco was beginning to feel sorry for Potter, and he didn't care for it one bit. Potter must have picked up on his mood, because he looked over at Draco curiously when Draco remained silent.

"You think _you_ have it bad?" he said quickly. "Try _not_ being the bloody hero! I probably get as much attention as you do, but it's a lot less positive, believe me. I don't have adoring fans singing my praises everywhere I go, sending me fan mail and marriage proposals all the damn time." He saw Potter's face turn pink at the words _marriage proposals_ and knew they were both thinking of the time an owl had delivered a letter with a very noisy and public proposal straight to Potter's desk at work. Draco had laughed for a good ten minutes afterwards, and he'd tried not to let Potter live it down since.

They were both quiet for a minute after Draco's outburst. "I guess it rather sucks to be both of us," Potter said at last.

Draco jerked his head up to meet Potter's eyes. Then he burst into surprised laughter, and, after a moment, Potter joined him. "Yeah, I guess it does," Draco said once he'd calmed down, wiping his eyes.

"So, now what?" Potter said a moment later. "You're so sure the world's coming to an end, and there's no way out, so what do you want to do? Play truth or dare?"

Draco smirked. "Why not Spin the Bottle?"

Potter rolled his eyes, looking irritated again. "Don't you ever stop?"

"Scared, Potter?"

Potter looked away, clenching his teeth. Draco wondered if he was counting to ten. "Look, we all get it already. You do very well in the bedroom, even with your reputation."

"Because of it, actually," Draco interrupted with a grin. "Everyone loves a bad boy. At least, they do when they're drunk and randy."

"Whatever. The point is, you don't need to keep bragging about it every chance you get, or turning everything into some kind of innuendo, or flirting with everyone, including me. _Especially_ me." His cheeks took on a noticeably pinker hue. "I mean, we'd probably get along a lot better if you'd stop it. You must've noticed by now how much it irritates me."

"Oh, absolutely," said Draco.

"So if you could — wait, what?" Potter looked confused, which Draco found to be one of his more appealing looks, right below infuriated.

"Of course I know it irritates you," Draco said cheerfully. "Not everyone is as oblivious as you, you know. We've been partners for, what, five years now? I think I've got a pretty good handle on what makes you tick."

Potter's eyes had been narrowing more and more as Draco spoke. "Then why do you _do_ it?" he burst out.

Draco shrugged. "Because it's fun. Why else? You're much too easy to provoke. It's like you're not even trying sometimes — like you actually _want_ to fight with me. So why not go with it? My therapist told me it's good to vent my anger in healthy ways."

"You have a therapist?"

"You don't? I'll be the first to admit I have anger issues. And I'm pretty sure you do, too. Why else would you let me get to you all the time?"

Potter looked torn, like he couldn't decide what to argue with first. "You think that picking fights with me is just a healthy expression of anger?"

Draco eyed him levelly. "I could be doing a lot worse, and we both know it."

"True."

Draco ignored Potter's rapid agreement. "I don't know why you think it's such a bad thing," he said. "We get along when it matters. The rest of the time, it keeps us from getting bored and complacent. I mean, do you really _want_ a partner who agrees with everything you say all the time, or someone who questions you and makes you think?"

Draco had always been able to read Potter like an open book. Now he could almost _see_ the wheels turning in Potter's head as he considered what Draco had just said.

"Yeah, but . . . " Draco watched him search for an argument. "Do you really have to be such a complete prick all the time?"

"Interesting that _prick_ is the first word that comes to mind when you think of me," Draco said with a grin.

"There you go again!" Potter cried, blushing. "Can't you pull your mind out of the gutter for five minutes?"

"I'm sure I could, but what's the fun of that?"

"Well, we could probably have an actual conversation, for one," said Potter.

"We're having a conversation right now."

_"Without_ shouting or trying to hex each other," Potter said pointedly. "Or whatever else you seem to want to do."

"Like I said, what's the fun of that?" Draco leaned back against the wall and watched Potter process this.

Potter met his gaze, looking tired. "What is it you want, Malfoy? Do you actually want to get into my pants, or are you just trying to piss me off?"

"Why can't both be true?" Draco said with a smirk. _Wrap your mind around_ that _one, Potter,_ he thought gleefully.

Potter was actually starting to look a little frightened. "Malfoy . . . "

"Yes, Potter?" Draco gave him a doe-eyed look.

Potter threw his hands in the air. "This is just getting weird."

"What's wrong with that?" Draco said innocently.

"Don't you think things would get a little awkward if we — well, whatever you're thinking of?"

Draco raised an eyebrow in surprise. Potter had completely bypassed the whole idea of them together, as if that part didn't bother him. Draco would've expected him to be more squeamish about the idea. _Maybe that means he's actually considering it,_ he thought hopefully. He took a step forward.

"Is that the only thing that's bothering you?" he murmured, relieved when Potter didn't take a step away.

Potter gulped audibly. His eyes darted around the room, betraying his nervousness. Draco licked his lips. _Forget about infuriated Potter,_ he thought. _This is definitely the most appealing I've seen him._

"Well, my friends — probably wouldn't—" Potter just had time to stammer out before Draco closed the distance between them and captured Potter's lips with his own. Draco could tell that he'd startled Potter with the sudden action, but Potter didn't pull away, and after a moment, he even began to return the kiss.

Above their heads, there was another loud rumble, much louder than before, the sound of stone scraping against stone. They both looked up in surprise to see the ceiling they'd fallen through opening up. Through the sudden bright light, they could make out the shape of Head Auror Shacklebolt's head appearing above them.

"Callahan, send a message to the Ministry," he said, addressing one of the other Aurors standing around the hole. "We've found them."

* * *

"Looks like you were wrong about the end of the world," Harry said, eyeing Malfoy with amusement.

"Thank Merlin for that," Malfoy said in obvious relief.

"Shacklebolt still doesn't know what happened," Harry continued. "Why the floor opened up the first time or how they got us out."

"I'm so glad you took the time to focus on the important things while I was just off actually _catching_ the smugglers."

Harry bumped Malfoy with his shoulder, not bothering to hide his smile. Malfoy had wasted no time getting back to their assignment the moment they'd been freed, leaving Harry to explain everything in an attempt to figure out what had happened. "Don't you even want to know about what happened earlier? I think it would be pretty useful to know how that trap worked in case we ever come across something like it again."

"I thought you just said that you _hadn't_ figured it out," Malfoy said snarkily. He sat down at his desk, looking anywhere but at Harry.

Harry dropped down on Malfoy's desk, in the middle of his paperwork. "They're still going over it, trying to determine what kind of spells were used," he said. "It's quite a puzzle, to be honest."

"That's fascinating, Potter." Aside from the brief glare he'd given Harry, Malfoy had barely looked up from his work — what he could see of it.

Harry eyed him curiously for a moment. Malfoy was highly intelligent and usually enjoyed working on unique and difficult puzzles. But he'd been acting weird since the moment they'd escaped, and Harry thought he knew why.

"No one saw us, if that's what you're worried about," he said.

"Oh, thank Merlin!" Malfoy cried in mock relief, clutching his chest and pretending to swoon. Harry didn't miss the tinge of pink that appeared in his cheeks, however.

"Anyway, the weird thing is that nobody on the outside was actively trying to free us when the floor opened up," Harry said. Just because Malfoy _pretended_ he wasn't interested didn't mean he wasn't. "They were studying a book of runes when it just opened up on its own. Shacklebolt doesn't know what to make of it."

Beside him, Malfoy faked a huge yawn.

Harry kicked him lightly in the shin and went on. "So they think the trap must've been designed to be triggered by something _we_ did." He lowered his eyes to the desk. "And, well, you _did_ say it said 'only love will set you free.'"

Malfoy snorted. "Don't make such a big deal out of it," he said. "The rest of the message was obviously false — I mean, we got out and everyone else is still here. Whoever set the trap was probably just trying to scare people with prophecies of doom. Besides, there was probably just some enchantment in the room altering our mood or whatever, making us believe things that weren't real."

"They didn't find any evidence of anything like that," said Harry. "And I don't feel like I've been — manipulated or anything." He could feel his own cheeks growing warm. "Do you?"

Malfoy was becoming twitchy and irritable. "Does it matter?"

Harry reached out and cupped his chin, forcing Malfoy to meet his eyes. "You kissed me."

"Well, it was a mistake. I mean, we thought the world was ending, and we were the only two people left. Anybody would've done the same thing. But you're right — I should stop flirting with you. It's unprofessional and—"

"You kissed me and the floor opened up, and you said 'only love will set you free.' So that must mean _something."_

Malfoy pulled his chin out of Harry's hand, but continued to hold his gaze. "Are you trying to tell me you're in love with me?" He was attempting to sound scornful, but Harry could see through it.

Harry regarded him with serious eyes. "I don't know if that's it or not," he said. "But I've finally realized that I don't actually hate you anymore. We seem to fit in some weird way, and we do work well together."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "That doesn't mean it's time to pick out curtains or anything."

"Maybe not," Harry said. He started to lean forward, and, although Malfoy looked startled, he didn't move away. Not even when their lips met. Harry reached up to stroke Malfoy's hair, enjoying the way Malfoy responded beneath him.

When they finally broke apart, Harry was pleased to see that Malfoy's expression had finally relaxed into a soft smile.

"Well, I suppose I could get used to this," he said. "Maybe things will go a bit more smoothly around here now that you've finally succumbed to my charms."

Harry just laughed and leaned in to kiss him again. "You wish."

_**~ fin ~**_

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Thanks for reading and/or reviewing!


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